The Cure for a Headache
by Clearly Odd
Summary: Erik finds that Charles has a curiously sensitive scalp, which leads to activities of a less innocent nature than just a massage


Erik found Charles exactly where he expected to find him, and in exactly the state he had warned him he would be in. The day had been long and wearing for both of them and it was early in their inhabitance of the mansion that Erik discovered Charles immediately sought comfort not in his own room, but in his study. Usually he could be found hidden somewhere behind comforting piles of papers and books and research, even if he was doing no more than staring, unseeing, at one page.

Tonight, however, Charles hadn't even bothered with the charade of a single book. He only perched on the edge of his overlarge desk chair and slumped, unmoving, over the sprawling surface of his desk. One arm pillowed his head, dark hair obscuring his features, while the other arm draped carelessly towards the floor. There was no sign as to whether the telepath was asleep or not, and Erik kept his tread light, footsteps muffled completely by the thick carpet of the study.

"_Erik_." Charles moaned as the man in question drew nearer. Awake, then.

"Ah. So it lives." Erik replied, the lightness of his tone grating on Charles's frayed nerves.

"I know that it's not possible, as the brain has no pain receptors, but I think," Charles mumbled, his words hindered slightly as his cheek remained pressed against the crook of his arm, "I think that my _brain hurts_, Erik. My actual brain."

"I did warn you." Erik said, leaning his hip against the edge of the desk and indulging in a rather satisfying round of 'I told you so.'

"I recall no such warning." Charles muttered.

"Funny, because I recall telling you that the longer you used Cerebro, the more likely it was that you were going to overextend yourself."

Erik received no reply other than a petulant "hmph," for a few minutes, but Charles was nothing if not predictable and he finally spoke once more. "But there are just so many, Erik. You can't imagine what it's like, being able to _see_ and _touch_ all those brilliant minds. The more I extend my reach, the more I realize there are _so many of us_. There are so many mutants we can help, in so many ways." His voice was thready and subdued, holding only a shadow of his usual enthusiasm for their shared purpose.

Charles was always so achingly enthusiastic when discussing matters of the school they were setting up, the mutant safe-haven he and Erik were cofounding, but these utterings were only a pale copy of his usual excited plans. Erik sighed, long past wondering when he had gone so soft, and slid a gentle hand onto Charles's shoulder. "Exciting as it is, you're not going to do us any good if you break yourself before we've even managed to gather some students."

"'M not broken. Just a bit wrung-out. Hmm…" Charles hummed when Erik's hand squeezed softly on his shoulder in sympathy, "That feels nice."

"Oh?" Erik inquired, moving so his hands covered both of Charles's shoulders, "Where does it hurt?"

Even though his face was obscured by his bangs, Erik could see Charles debating revealing the extent of his discomfort. Finally, he relented with a sigh. "Shoulders. Neck. Head. Did I mention my brain? Because I really do think it might be hurting right now."

Erik quirked a small smile. "Well, I'm not sure I can do much about your overrun brain, but I've been told I'm quite good with my hands when it comes to more… corporeal matters."

Charles finally slanted one eye open, glancing up at Erik. "I'm the one who told you that."

"Well it must be true, then." Erik replied, beginning to apply slight pressure to Charles's shoulders.

"Mm, yes, it is." Charles agreed tiredly, shutting his eyes once more.

"You know, this works much better if your shoulders are level. And if you're not lying on one of your arms." Erik reminded the other man, tugging softly at the joints beneath his hands.

Charles released a breath through his nose and slithered off the desk, managing a more or less upright position in the large chair. There were lines of strain on his face that put lines of concern on Erik's own, but he said nothing. Charles was stubborn, but he wasn't stupid; if he was experiencing undue or excessive pain, he would do more than lie on his desk and moan about it. Convinced the discomfort his partner was feeling was due to strain and tension, Erik set about his task with a comforting ease. He worked the muscles of Charles's shoulders as though they were metal, malleable and familiar beneath his palms, and Charles groaned his approval, allowing his head to loll back as he reveled in Erik's skill. "That's not good for your neck." Erik remarked, pressing his thumbs into a knot of muscle at the center of Charles's shoulders.

"I do a great many things that- ah- are not good for me. I ha- hardly think this makes even the top twenty," Charles stuttered around small noises of pleasure, "In fact this feels very much like… hmm… like a good thing."

Erik gave a huff of exasperated fondness and pulled his hands away, much to Charles' confusion. "Wha- What happened, why'd you stop?" He inquired, sitting upright once more and looking round for his missing masseuse.

Coming around the side of the oversized desk chair, Erik gave Charles a gentle nudge at the center of his back. "Move forward a bit." He commanded.

Quirking a curious eyebrow, mindful still of his headache, Charles complied, scooting as far forward in the chair as he could without slipping off. Then, with a practiced grace that Charles really found rather unfair, Erik slid in easily behind him, leaving Charles perched between his knees. "Here, lean back." Erik punctuated the statement with a tug to Charles's waist.

The telepath complied with a murmured, "Ah, I see," before allowing himself to be settled comfortably against Erik's chest.

The position was too awkward for Erik to continue on Charles's shoulders, so he moved on to the column of his lover's neck, kneading gently at the strained muscles he found there. He worked his way up and by the time he had begun to rub his fingers into the hair at the base of Charles's skull, the other man was practically purring. The noises abruptly stopped, however, when Erik moved his hands up further into the mass of wavy hair. "Ah- Thank you, love, I think that's quite enough, though." Charles said lightly, reaching back to circle his hands around Erik's wrists.

"Something wrong?" Erik asked, allowing his hands to be stilled.

"Nothing at all. Feeling much better now, actually." Charles replied, his fingers still wrapped gently around Erik's wrists.

Erik turned his hands and caught Charles's own, entwining their fingers as he lowered their arms together and curled them across Charles's front. "No, you're not." He countered.

"Yes, actually, I am. It's my body, who are you to say if I do or don't feel better?" Charles demanded, though there was no ire to his words. He turned as best he could in Erik's embrace to regard the other man critically.

Erik gave him a brief, sly smile, laying his head on Charles's shoulder. "Though you are undoubtedly one of the best mind readers to currently inhabit the world, you are not nearly so adept at body language. And your _body_ is insisting it is still quite tense, even if your mouth tells me otherwise."

Charles frowned at bit at Erik's tone, but relaxed back into the embrace that was too nice to resist. "It's… a little embarrassing, I suppose," He replied shifting restlessly between Erik's legs, "I mean, surely you've noticed that I barely let you touch my head when we're having sex."

Erik nodded as best he was able while his chin was still against Charles's shoulder. "I always assumed it was because you didn't want me to muss your precious hair." Charles could practically hear his smug grin.

He attempted to elbow the man behind him in the ribs, but his hands were too entangled to allow much movement. His irritation died away quickly, however, and leaned out a bit to glance at Erik. "Actually, it's quite the opposite. I would… enjoy you mussing my hair entirely too much, I think." Charles admitted, glancing away once more, "My scalp, and my temples in particular, they're… well, they're a bit of an awkward erogenous zone, honestly."

There was only a brief pause before Erik spoke again. "Is it because of your telepathy?" He asked, genuinely curious.

Charles shrugged his free shoulder. "It's certainly possible. Not something I can exactly ask around about, though." He grinned absently, "In any case, I've never come across anyone else who reacts so… thoroughly to a scalp massage as I do."

Erik stilled behind Charles for a moment. "You're still in pain." It wasn't a question, but Charles answered anyway.

"Not as much. You _are_ very good with your hands, darling." Charles replied, squeezing the appendages in question with his own.

"Would you let me?" Erik asked, this time blatantly requesting permission from the man pressed against his chest.

"Give me a scalp massage?" Charles clarified.

"Yes." Erik agreed, freeing his hands from Charles's and pressing his fingertips gently to the base of Charles's skull.

Charles took in a shallow gasp at the unexpected touch, but nodded. "Never let it be said I'm one to look a gift horse in the mouth." He murmurs.

Erik wasted no time in threading his fingers through the thick brown curls and Charles's reaction is immediate. A shudder of pleasure ran through the slighter man, and Erik grinned. "You really are sensitive."

"I can't imagine why you think I'd be lying about something like that." Came Charles's breathless reply.

The only reply Erik offered was to apply gentle pressure with his blunt nails, scratching testingly at the top of Charles's head. He was rewarded with a keening sound he had not yet heard Charles make and, honestly, if this kept up, Charles wasn't going to be the only one turned on by the situation. "Hmmm, oh. Oh, Erik," Charles groaned as the other man rubbed nimble fingers across his sensitive scalp, "Mmm, _yes_."

Well, that about did it for Erik's self-control. He always had had a soft spot for his lover's rich voice, and to hear it so pitched in pleasure—the erection now pressed against Charles's lower back was really an inevitability. Far from being deterred by it, though, Charles pressed back against Erik's hardening cock with a pleased sigh. "Keep going." He mumbled, tilting his head further back toward Erik.

Curious as to what would happen, Erik brushed his fingers over Charles's temples, applying only a teasing amount of pressure, and was surprised by the high-pitched whine that came from Charles's throat. "_Oh_- That- That's…" The man trailed off, and launched himself unexpectedly from the chair.

Erik had enough time to wonder if he had gone too far before Charles was straddling his lap in the large desk chair, pressing their lips together in a determinedly filthy kiss. Charles licked into Erik's mouth in the metal bender's moment of surprise, caressing the roof of it and stroking around the top and sides of his tongue. "Don't stop." He whispered when he pulled back.

Erik could most certainly feel Charles's erection pressing against his lower belly and took that as his cue to continue the massage. He pushed his fingers into the hair at the back of Charles's head, alternately gripping and rubbing, then pushed his thumbs gently back to Charles's temples. "_Yes_," Charles gasped against his mouth, rutting down on Erik's erection, "Just- just like that, Erik, _please_."

Obligingly, Erik rubbed circles into Charles's temples and earned himself a deep-throated moan. When Charles's hands had found purchase on Erik's shoulders he wasn't sure, but the younger man was now squeezing at them, bracing himself as he rocked down against Erik's clothed cock. Erik ran his fingers up to the top of Charles's scalp, scratching gently, but kept his thumbs pressed resolutely to his lover's temples, rubbing out an uneven rhythm against the soft hair. "God, Erik, don't stop," Charles groaned, taking one hand from Erik's shoulders to reach for the fastenings of Erik's pants, "Don't- It's perfect, don't stop."

Before long, Charles had managed to pull both Erik and himself from the confines of their trousers and was rubbing is erection frantically up against Erik's in the loose grip of his hand, his hips stuttering every time Erik applied more pressure to his scalp.

Erik was fascinated beneath his haze of lust. Charles had never been a particularly quiet lover, but this was something else altogether. Never had Erik heard him cry out in such a way, panting as though they'd been going at it for hours. He wondered just what it would take to push Charles over the edge and took a chance, removing his fingers from Charles's scalp altogether before running his short fingernails down across the soft, sensitive flesh on the side of Charles's head.

Charles keened, the loud noise sounding very much like Erik's name, and came with a heavy shudder, gripping Erik's cock tighter against his own as he thrust shallowly through his orgasm. The sound alone was almost enough to bring Erik to completion, but the movement of Charles's hand, spreading his own semen over the sensitive flesh of Erik's erection was more than enough to finish the job.

Chuckling between heavy breaths, Erik reached up again and pet down the mess he'd made of Charles's hair, causing the other man to hum deep in his chest. Charles rested his forehead in the crook of Erik's neck and took the time to even his own breathing. "You know," He said, his voice too dreamy to sound at all conversational, "Orgasm is actually a stellar way to temporarily alleviate pain. Wonderful cure for headaches."

Erik snorted, still petting absently at Charles's hair. "Well, we'll have to keep that in mind."

"Yes," Charles agreed, snuggling closer to Erik despite the mess between them, "We most certainly shall."


End file.
